


Paris

by sunowl154 (nokkakona)



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-09
Updated: 2013-03-09
Packaged: 2017-12-04 17:48:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/713382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nokkakona/pseuds/sunowl154
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel stands in the rain with the devil by his side, who whispers things to him he knows but doesn't want to hear. Casifer if you want it to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paris

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this during a storm so it's like, ten times better if you put on one of those rain sound youtubes and a nice blizzard youtube and possibly a sad piano, but do whatever you want. Can be interpreted as Casifer.

Castiel stands on a bridge in Paris during a storm. The wood beneath his feet is dark with rain and the raging, flooded waters of the Seine. His trenchcoat, soaked, flaps wildly in the wind, but he remains, unmoving.

"No matter how loud the world is, brother, you can't tune me out. You know that."

He narrows his eyes against the storm. The silhouette of the Eiffel Tower stands darkly in the distance. It looms over the horizon, the only shape in the grey blur of the clouds and mist. If he closes his eyes, he can still see it. It's imprinted on the backs of his eyelids, and if he were to cover his eyes with his hands, maybe it would go away; but that's not what he wants when he closes his eyes.

"Do you remember when God first created you? I do. You were this tiny, glowing light with all the power of a nuclear bomb, and you had no idea."

Paris, even in the midst of a snowstorm, is formidable. It's formidably colourful and formidably passionate and formidably  _alive_. Even though Castiel can't see it, he can feel the life in the city; he can feel the wetness that seeps into the people's boots and the desperate grabs women make for their straying scarves. Dogs living in apartments and pet stores and sewers shake every time the wind tries to help the buildings fly, and children with homes stare through windows, their eyes full of wonder and fright all at once.

"It wasn't just the humans Dad tried to keep from having knowledge, you know. It was us, too. He kept us under control a lot longer than he kept  _them_  under control."

Some children, of course, don't have the luxury of windows. He can feel them too – their pain, their lost, innocent loneliness. With just one brief touch, his grace against their souls, he knows all of them. He takes on their hurt and abandonment for one moment and understands.

"And I can see why. Look at you. Look at what you did. You found out you had power and you found out that you could do whatever you wanted with it and  _you tried to help them._ "

But it's only a moment. The grand, poor city in the storm cannot be soothed by just one brief touch of an angel. And Castiel knows now not to meddle in troubles created by another's hand.

"And you fell, Castiel. Just like me."

Even with the devil whispering in his ear, Castiel knows better now.

"You fell because you cared too much."


End file.
